consonantsandvowels's Open Salon Blog

the weather inside

Sat, 18 May 2013 14:05:21 -0400

"Every time you wish the sky was something happening to your heart,

you lose twice." — Olena Kalytiak Davis

ricochet

boomerang -
ing boredom

tedium of lists of
shoulds and shouldn'ts

back and forthing game
of playing fetch with a panting universe

toad song back of the hedge....

time and place

Thu, 9 May 2013 22:05:59 -0400

^{“Six Suns,” a timelapse photo of an Arctic day, taken by Donald MacMillan on the Crocker Land Expedition from 1913-1917.}

When you live a long time in a place it ceases to be a grid on a map or interconnected streets, you come to know it and then you forget it. History and experience create landmarks of personal meaning and memory, but the strangeness, the romance of coming to know where you are, fades. Only sometimes walking down a street at dusk or with a dark flash of starlings overhead, it all falls into you again, startling you into awareness and the wake of that moment flows through you and you sense the river of time in a place that seemed static, though all along you were in the current of your unknowing.

Afternoon of a Non

Wed, 1 May 2013 21:05:44 -0400

It seems new: the phosphoresce-ing green,
the insistent glare - even the light and air turned chartreuse,
like the jaundiced blossom of a fading bruise,
like absinthe, like neon absence,
like drowning in anti-freeze,
like bile.

making a big pink moon

Tue, 30 Apr 2013 23:04:01 -0400

It's a confusion of Logos and Legos^®

the architecture of desire how

poetic - my love for the big pink moon

winches it across the dark unknown sky.

Teaching the Ape to Write Poems

James Tate

grasshoppers and peaches

Tue, 16 Apr 2013 23:04:07 -0400

Poetry is not the truth, it is a resurrection of presences.

^{-Octavio Paz}

The something else under the sun lies in deep shade

time and chance

how the light falls

the inaccuracy of the gnomon

splinted middle finger

***

This Is the Time of Grasshoppers and All That I See is Dying

Adrian C. Louis

At the End of My Hours

Dana Levin